


Three Times is an Enemy Action

by catpawz



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dream Sex, Face-Fucking, Grinding, Initial Dubious Consent, M/M, Power Bottom Alucard, Riding, Rimming, Rutting, Spoilers, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpawz/pseuds/catpawz
Summary: Trevor has been having strange, unnatural dreams. Horrifying dreams, featuring Alucard.But they're just dreams, so they don't mean anything. What meaning would there be behind a dream of Alucard and him fucking?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK (back back)  
> BACK AGAIN (gain gain)  
> My writer's block has been CRAZY bad lately but I did it I'm half-way done with this fic!!! And I wanted to post it ;w;

“Would you wake up already!”

Sypha’s sandaled foot collides with Trevor’s side, and Trevor jolts up in his makeshift bed. Immediately everything is wrong. He feels dizzy, hardly able to catch his breath despite how he pants, and his hands are shaking. Trevor has had plenty of rude awakenings in his life, but they’ve never left him feeling so uneasy. Something... is something wrong with him?

“Wh—” the words come out slowly and slurred, and even then he’s talking faster than he’s thinking, “wha’ time?”

“You’re still half-asleep, aren’t you?” Sypha quirks her lips to the side, clearly annoyed. How did she expect him to act, after literally kicking Trevor awake? That’d he’d leap out of bed and race her to Dracula? Just the thought of standing makes the world spin a little faster.

What the  _ Hell _ did Trevor do last night, to leave him waking up like this? Obviously there was that whole debacle with the demons and the priest and saving the Speakers, but Trevor’s done worse and woken up just fine.

Or, not  _ fine _ , per se, but certainly not feeling like he was going to fall over when he was already sitting down.

“...you look like shit,” Sypha says after a moment of silence while Trevor tries to feel this out, like she’s just noticed. Trevor groans in response.

“I feel like shit.” At least his voice is growing more even. Slowly he raises a hand to his face, but can hardly focus on it enough to see it shake. He can feel it though, feel the way his fingers twitch erratically. He pushes his palm into his eye socket in an effort to clear his vision.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Sypha’s voice has grown less annoyed and more concerned. For a moment, Trevor's ready to scoff at the idea. He's had nightmares before, more than he can count, with roaring flames engulfing the world around him and people he once considered his neighbors coming at him with sharpened pitchforks and old family swords. Even  _ they _ didn’t leave him feeling like this.

But when he starts to think about it, best he can through the fog and static in his mind, Trevor notices he does feel something, the faint memory of a dream burning in the back of his mind. He can’t pick out the details, can’t see anything beyond blurry shapes, but it was something… strange. Not quite a nightmare, it feels almost pleasant on his mind, in all honesty, but if it left him feeling like this...

“I think so.”

“You  _ think _ so?”

“I don’t really… remember,” Trevor admits. He had a dream, he’s certain of that much now that he's had time to mull it over. The memory of dreaming resurfaces, and Trevor vividly recalls… something.

Sypha hums, and nods her head, “I suppose that’s nice, right? If it really was that bad.”

“I suppose so,” Trevor agrees, and pulls his hand away from his eye. He’s starting to see a bit better now, and it feels less like his head was being held underwater. The world is becoming clearer, Trevor even considers attempting to stand.

“I had some unpleasant dreams myself last night.” Before he can, Sypha is sitting down on the dirt ground beside him, looking out of the massive hole in the front of their shack, their makeshift home for the time being, and at all the people milling about outside, counting their dead and gathering any unspoiled supplies.

“Yeah, you’re not used to all this yet.”

“And you are?”

“I’ve been trained to fight those things since birth. They don’t affect me anymore.”

“And yet, you had a nightmare yourself last night.”

Trevor sighs, and massages his fingers into his forehead, “I don’t think it was a nightmare.”

“You just said it was!”

“I said I  _ thought _ so!” Trevor frowns, and tries to think. “I think it was just some weird dream.” 

Because Trevor knows nightmares. He knows how they leave him feeling nauseous and paranoid in the morning, how he’ll wake up long before the sun has risen with the sights of the nightmare still flashing in the corner of his eyes. Whatever he had last night wasn’t a nightmare, though he isn’t sure if it was better or worse. 

He’d rather not recall it either way. Better safe than sorry and all that, the last thing Trevor needs is something worse than a nightmare weighing him down.

“Don’t you have to go and see your family before they leave?” He asks, trying to distract Sypha from this conversation before she pries any further into whatever the Hell it was Trevor slept—though perhaps "slept" is a strong word, he still feels utterly exhausted, like he didn't sleep at all—through last night.

“Yes of course! That’s why I woke you.” Fortunately, Sypha is standing then, and turns to look back down at Trevor. She looks a bit pensive, Trevor notes, with her brows slightly furrowed and eyes not quite meeting Trevor's. “I was… hoping you’d join me.”

Trevor quirks a brow at her. Was that really what she was concerned about? Fair enough, Trevor thinks, Sypha doesn't consider him to be the most generous person in Wallachia, and rightly so. Her worry that Trevor will refuse is not unfounded, the idea of laying here is much more appealing, but—

But Trevor nods anyway, “yeah I can do that.”

Immediately she’s relaxing, and some warm, fuzzy part of Trevor's heart he didn't realize he still had tingles, “thank you, Trevor. It’s hard to see them go, I’m sure you understand.”

Trevor nods again. He doesn't, really, but he isn't quite awake enough to argue.

“You and Alucard both would, I suppose, but—”

And then the world freezes. Everything, from the people outside to the air around them to Trevor's own still hasty heartbeat. Even the words coming from Sypha's mouth dissolve into thin, going completely unnoticed, unheard. Trevor’s mind is incapable of focusing on anything beyond—

“...Alucard?”

Sypha scoffs, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him so soon.”

Alucard.  _ Alucard _ .

Of course Trevor hasn't forgotten him, quite the opposite. Something about him, the image of Alucard in his mind, actually brings up memories, ones Trevor can't quite piece together enough to figure out where they came from. They only met last night, so how many memories of Alucard can Trevor have? They met last night, then came up here, and Trevor fell asleep just as the sun was rising—

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh  _ shit, _ oh—

* * *

All Trevor can feel is warmth and wet and it’s utterly perfect. He must be dead. He must have died and gone to Heaven, despite how unlikely it always seemed, because there is no feeling on Earth that’s this  _ good _ .

Alucard sighs above him, fangs glinting in the faint light coming from somewhere beyond Trevor’s head, somewhere he cannot identify. Somewhere he doesn’t really care to identify, because Alucard is rolling his hips down and Trevor’s cock is swallowed even deeper by his body and  _ fuck _ that’s nice.

“You feel so good,” Alucard praises, and the words go straight to Trevor’s chest, warming him even further from the inside out. “So good for me.” 

Trevor doesn’t know why, but it feels like the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him. He wants to be good for Alucard, wants to drive Alucard crazy with pleasure, until his eyes are rolling backwards in his head and he can think of nothing but the sensations running through his limbs, just as Trevor can hardly think of anything beyond how fucking _amazing_ Alucard's body feels around his cock.  He wants to reach out and touch the other, but his arms are tied tightly together by some soft, almost comfortable rope. Alucard has a firm grip on his wrists too, inhuman strength ensuring Trevor's arms stay in their position above his head. 

Nice as they feel, the ropes are unneccessary. The last thing on Trevor's mind right now is escape. But maybe Alucard just likes the way they look against Trevor's skin, and Trevor finds that he doesn't mind the ropes so much anymore.

Alucard's other hand is trailing over Trevor’s chest, long claws gently scratching against Trevor’s skin and making him purr. Alucard grins when Trevor’s mouth drops open in a sigh when his nails catch Trevor’s nipple in their path upwards. It should hurt, Trevor realizes distantly, but it doesn’t. Everything feels so good, so warm, Trevor’s sure he’s forgotten what pain feels like entirely.

His hand moves up Trevor’s neck then, and finally stops when he’s caressing Trevor’s face. Trevor gives him a lazy smile, and Trevor can see the way it makes him look, somehow, from a position over them both—almost drunk with the pleasure Alucard is giving him, eyes half-lidded but not closed, because how could he possibly _not_ look at Alucard?

The way his golden hair frames his face, the perfect cheek bones and gentle, angled lines of his jaw—he’s practically glowing in the mysterious light blanketing them both, and it's beautiful. Trevor wants to get his hands all over him, touch the soft, pale skin and run his fingers through the long hair, but of course he still can’t, not unless Alucard undoes the binding holding Trevor's arms.

Fortunately, there are other ways to touch Alucard that don’t involve his hands. Even more fortunate, Alucard can practically read his mind.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Alucard asks, and Trevor is nodding rapidly before the question is even fully past Alucard’s beautiful lips, the lips that will soon be against Trevor’s. Alucard laughs at his eagerness, but he must appreciate it, because he rewards Trevor with another roll of his hips. Trevor rolls his head back and groans as Alucard’s ass squeezes around him, so perfectly, like Trevor’s cock was made specially for him. It’s a lovely thought.

Alucard is leaning forward then, and pressing soft lips against Trevor’s own. Trevor wastes no time licking at them, begging Alucard to open his mouth so he can suck on his tongue. Alucard is so, so good to him, and once more he complies to Trevor’s wishes, dipping his tongue between Trevor’s lips and comparatively blunt teeth. The moan that rips through Trevor’s chest reverberates in his throat, and without meaning to he’s bucking his hips up.

Alucard gasps into Trevor’s mouth, eyes fluttering shut, and Trevor realizes he must have hit something good. He angles his hips forward a bit then, and again, when Alucard pushes back down against Trevor’s cock, he moans, noise muffled still by Trevor's mouth. Despite how the noises are muffled, it all sounds so beautiful.

He’s breaking the kiss then, with a wet, sloppy noise, and Trevor chases Alucard’s lips as long as he can, pressing quick, chaste kisses to whatever he can reach, before Alucard has simply pulled back too far. A strand of saliva still connects them but it’s not enough, Trevor whines in frustration and tries to crane his neck a bit further.

Alucard laughs again, eyes twinkling with amusement, like Trevor’s pleasure is all just a game to him. It probably is.

“You want me to keep kissing you?” His smooth voice is growing breathless. Again Trevor is nodding his head, so quickly he fears he’ll break his neck. “Be a good boy, then, and show me how badly.”

What Trevor wants to do is reach out and grab Alucard’s head, pull him back in and press kiss after kiss to his lips and face before drawing his tongue out again. He wants to drag his hands down Alucard’s sides and hold his hips, drag Alucard up and down on his cock until Alucard is unable to say anything but how _good_ Trevor is.

But without the use of his arms, none of that is possible. Trevor whines again, tries to convey to Alucard just how difficult his task is, but Alucard does nothing to free his wrists. He just keeps grinning down at him, waiting.

And so, unable to move anything else, Trevor rolls his hips up. Alucard exhales gently, and, spurred on by the lovely noise, Trevor does it again, this time angling his hips just like Alucard loved and thrusting upwards. Alucard starts this time, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open slightly. It’s an amazing look for him, every expression Alucard makes is an amazing look for him.

Trevor never wants to stop seeing it.

As if he has every part of Alucard’s body committed to memory, Trevor does not fail to keep hammering away at that spot inside Alucard, banging his cock up against it until Alucard’s soft sighs were turned to high-pitched whines and cut-off groans of Trevor’s name. It was addictive, seeing Alucard like this. Trevor could hardly think of his own pleasure, could hardly think of how amazing his cock felt inside Alucard’s ass, how Alucard’s hands, which had, at some point, trailed back to his chest, burned against his skin. The only thing he could think of was Alucard, pleasuring Alucard, until neither could take it anymore.

He had almost entirely forgotten about the kiss he was promised, until Alucard deemed him worthy. Alucard takes a hold of Trevor’s shoulders then, and pulls him up into a sitting position, chests pushed together, sweat making the both of them sticky but neither Trevor nor Alucard seemed to care. 

Alucard is practically slamming their mouths together, lips hungrily mouthing at Trevor’s, and Trevor swears his heart was beating so quickly it had stopped altogether. He bites down on Alucard’s lower lip, and in return Alucard scrapes his fangs against Trevor’s. The thought of Alucard biting down, tasting Trevor’s blood, was utterly terrifying, and made his cock throb almost painfully.

He was close. He was so, so close, and from the sound of it, so was Alucard. Trevor wanted that, wanted to see Alucard come undone, hit his peak on Trevor’s cock. He wondered if Alucard would scream. He  _ wanted _ Alucard to scream, but Alucard was so quiet, hard hardly made a noise outside of sighs and moans. Maybe Trevor just needed to try a bit harder.

But Alucard was rapidly taking control once more. Trevor could hardly keep up, distracted as he was by Alucard’s lips and tongue. He squeezed Trevor’s shoulders tighter, balancing himself, and took to bouncing himself up and down on Trevor’s cock, fast, rough, slamming himself down and twitching every time.

One hand moved up from Trevor’s shoulder and laced its fingers in Trevor’s hair as Trevor longed to do to Alucard, and using this grip Alucard brought them impossibly closer, like he was attempting to melt into Trevor’s body through the kiss alone. Trevor didn’t mind it in the slightest, was more than happy to endlessly kiss and nip and lick Alucard until the two of them were out of breath. It seemed like they would never run out of breath.

Or perhaps they had, because suddenly Alucard is breaking the kiss and Trevor is gasping for air. He can hardly breathe, can hardly  _ think _ outside of the wet heat his cock is continuously engulfed in.

“Trevor.” 

His name on Alucard’s lips is like music to Trevor's ears. Trevor groans in response, unable to form a more coherent reply.

“ _ Trevor _ .”

Alucard is louder this time, seemingly startling even himself with his volume. Trevor jolts too—it’s as if, instead of sighing a few inches away, Alucard is shouting directly into his ear. Alucard looks confused, no longer paying attention to Trevor and instead glancing around their space. Even his bouncing has slowed, and for some reason, that, and not Alucard's sudden change in volume and clear confusion, is the main problem for Trevor.

“Trevor!”

Alucard’s voice sounds so strange, and everything is growing dark—or, no, bright. So, so bright, like the sun is rising right behind them. The light blots out Alucard, and Trevor can’t even feel him against his body anymore, let alone  _ see _ him. The space goes next, until it’s all just bright, shiny white, and then— 

* * *

And then Sypha kicked him.

It’s all come back now.

Shit.  _ Fuck _ . That can’t be what happened. Trevor must have been right before, right about something being wrong, because that can’t be the dream Trevor had. 

“Trevor? Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

Because Trevor  _ hates _ Alucard, has hated him since they found the undead bastard in that crypt, since he tried to kill Trevor immediately upon meeting him. The only thing appealing about the man is that he wants his father dead just as much as Trevor does, but sometimes, Trevor doubts even that. Vampires are often prone to lying, after all, every member of the Belmont clan could tell you that.

So why the Hell would he dream about him? Have a dream like... like  _that_ one was, about  _him_? Why would he imagine himself taking pleasure in Alucard’s body, in being  _ controlled _ by Alucard? 

There is something wrong with him. Maybe he ate or drank something weird, or perhaps he fought just one too many demons yesterday, because there’s no way—

“You don’t look fine. You’ve gone pale.”

“I’m  _ fine _ .”

But... but it was just a dream. Just a dream. Sometimes dreams have meaning, but not always. This couldn’t have had any meaning, because what meaning would be behind a dream like that?

That’s how Trevor reassures himself. It was  _ just _ a dream, meaning it was just utter nonsense. There was no meaning, no reason, it was just… just his brain playing almost offensively unfunny jokes on him to see how he’d react. Maybe he was mentally preparing himself for the horrors they’d face at Dracula’s castle, because what was more disgusting than Alucard’s bare skin, pale neck bent back, long eyelashes fluttering shut when Trevor sunk his cock deeper into him—

...

It was disgusting. All of it.

“I, uh, meant to ask,” Trevor furrows his brow, making a face that would almost imply he was trying to force the memory of the dream out with his mind alone. “Where is Alucard?”

“Oh! I’m not quite sure,” Sypha hums. “I believe he went out to gather supplies. Should we wait for him?”

“No.” Trevor grunts out, then he’s quickly pulling himself up and out from under his blankets and marching right past Sypha towards the hole leading outside. “Let’s go see your family.”

He hears Sypha say something behind him, but he doesn’t stop to actually listen. He needs to get out of here before Alucard shows up, and then do his best to avoid him  until their mission was over. 

He can’t… he just can’t face the man. He knows that it was all just a dream, and that it _doesn’t_ _ mean anything _ , but he knows he won’t be able to look Alucard in the eyes without remembering what they looked liked glossed over in pleasure.

* * *

Trevor used to not believe there was a god. He knew that the priests said that he'd go to Hell for it, that he was wrong, but it went in one ear and right out the other, honestly. After all, what kind of god would let his home burn and family die like that?

But lately, Trevor’s starting to reconsider. He thinks that, perhaps, he was wrong to doubt that there may be a god. He thinks that maybe the priests and pastors at the churches through Wallachia are right.

There is a god.

But they’re a cruel, sick bastard.

Trevor faces Alucard many, many times over the course of a few days. They’re alone together when Sypha goes to get a carriage, and though Alucard makes no attempt to start any conversation, it still feels so  _ awkward _ . All Trevor can think of is how his skin burned under Alucard's touches, and the way his fangs glinted in the light.

Once the carriage is found and set up, Trevor is quick to claim a spot in the front, facing away from Alucard, away from the memories, but it’s still no use. He can practically feel his presence just a few feet away, like Alucard radiates an air of  _ himself _ , and it’s—

Bad. It’s so, so bad.

That’s really the only word for it. “Bad.”

And then they pull over and Trevor has to listen to Alucard poetically tell them all about his mother, and his voice sounds—sad, almost, and irritating. Irritatingly similar to the voice from his dreams, telling Trevor how good he was.

 

At that point, Trevor is convinced the night can't get any worse, but of course, it does. A party of demons inturrupts their lovely conversation, and then they’re  _ fighting _ . Perhaps it wouldn't have been so much of a problem, the fighting could at least have helped take Trevor's mind off of everything, and given him a way to get out a little pent-up frustration and... _other_ emotions, but that doesn't work out for him either. Alucard’s form is like a fire across the small clearing, destroying everything in his path with quick, fluid, amazing thrusts and swings of his sword. Trevor can hardly keep his eyes off him.

He thinks that, when they finally decide to rest for the night, Trevor can find some escape in his dreams. After all, what are the odds he’d have such dreams about Alucard two nights in a row, when he despises the man so? Trevor doesn't know why he counted on his luck to pull through for him in his sleep when it's been nothing but a bitch all day.

He awakens better than before at least, with only a thin layer of sweat covering his skin and the taste of Alucard still coating his tongue. He remembers the dream perfectly this time, remembers how he was not bound down with ropes, but was instead held against the bed by Alucard’s own body, sitting on his face. He remembers how soft Alucard’s hips were beneath his hands, how Alucard’s praises would turn to whines when Trevor’s tongue caught against the rim of his—

Trevor doesn’t really want to think about it. Which, of course, doesn't mean he  _doesn't_ think about it, can't  _stop_ thinking about it, but he hates every moment of it.

He works twofold trying to avoid Alucard for the rest of that day, and he’s sure Alucard has noticed Trevor’s sudden, strange demeanor, but he doesn’t care. It’s not like he was ever attempting to get Alucard to like him.

Trevor's luck seems to be turning, at least, which Trevor is endlessly thankful for. Avoiding Alucard becomes much, much easier once they’re in the library. He's content to explore the library on his own—though his definition of “explore” involves looking vaguely disgusted by every book, heirloom, and trophy he sees. Trevor stays with Sypha, and listens to her talk about her theories and the books she finds.

“What I really need is a book about the mechanisms that move Dracula’s castle. If we can figure out how they work, there may be a way to detect when they’re started up and maybe even a way to pinpoint where they’re taking the castle! Though, with Dracula in the state he’s in, it can’t be easy to predict what he’s planning. Perhaps a safer plan would be to stop the mechanism all together, but of course, first we’ll need to track the castle down—…”

It lulls Trevor to sleep soon enough, and he’s grateful for it. The dreams of Alucard always left him waking more exhausted than he was when he fell asleep in the first place, but with naught but Sypha’s voice on his mind, and her plans on how to find and stop Dracula, then surely he will have no dreams at all.

But what Trevor hadn’t accounted for, was that God hated him personally, and that his luck was starting to get a little _too_ good.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, it could have been hours, or perhaps it’s mere seconds later, and he’d simply nodded off. But he awakes again with imagines of Alucard’s bare chest in his mind, the feeling of the scar beneath Trevor’s fingertips. He remembers the way Alucard's laugh rang in his ears like bells when Trevor rutted a little faster against his toned thigh, the way he reached up and played with Trevor's hair while Trevor brought himself closer and closer to completion—

 

Trevor can still feel how hard he was, when his dick was weeping against Alucard's skin, staining it with shiny precum. It almost feels real still, like he's still grinding against Alucard's thigh, like his cock is still throbbing—

Oh. Oh  _no_.

“Oh fuck,” Trevor mumbles aloud, quickly sitting himself up so he can assess the damage. This can’t be happening, he can’t have seriously—… he  _ can’t _ have seriously just—…

“Are the nightmares getting worse?” 

 

Sypha’s voice jolts Trevor, and he jumps up, back straightening and hastily pulling the blanket tighter around him in hopes that Sypha won’t notice if there’s an oddly, obviously shaped bulge in the front of his pants. She quirks a brow at him, and Trevor returns her suspicious stare with a sheepish smile.

“Uh…” he scrambles for a reasonable response, “I suppose you could say that, yeah.”

It’s certainly not a lie. These  _ nightmares _ , because clearly that’s what they are, are getting much, much worse.

Sypha’s look changes from suspicious to pitiful, and Trevor isn’t quite sure how he feels about that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and then she’s moving over to him, and Trevor pulls the blanket closer to his lap. Sypha’s eyes flick downwards towards the movement but, blessedly, she says nothing when she sits down beside him.

“Do you remember any of them now?”

“No,” Trevor responds quickly, too quickly to be natural he realizes, and Sypha’s suspicious expression flickers back onto her face for a moment.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. I certainly can’t judge you for having nightmares after fighting those… things.”

“I don’t remember!”

“Sure,” she shoots him a knowing grin, and Trevor returns it with nervous laughter. She has no idea just how little she knows, that she's utterly clueless to the true nature of Trevor’s dreams. It's a rare stroke of luck. Now Trevor just needs an excuse for her to stand up and look away for five or so minutes.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“I really don’t remember! I promise I don’t remember.”

“Alright, alright!” Sypha laughs lightly and throws her hands up in defense. She’s standing then, and immediately Trevor is relaxing when Sypha has his back to him, rendering it near impossible for her to notice the little… problem, Trevor seems to have run into. He goes to stand too, to rush off to where he can wait this out in private, when—

“Oh!” Again Sypha’s voice startles Trevor, who immediately takes to pulling so tightly on the blanket, he’s half-worried he might tear it.

“Why don’t you talk to Alucard?” 

…

“I… don’t think that’ll help.”

That would probably be the worst thing he could do in his situation, honestly. What would it accomplish? Either he awkwardly stands around Alucard while trying not to think of all the dreams he’s had of him, of how he’s been involuntarily fantasizing about his lithe body, or he  _ tells _ Alucard what’s been going on in an effort to clear the air. 

Then, the best Trevor can hope for is a quick death.

“I know you two aren’t… overly fond of each other,” Sypha sighs, and for a second, Trevor almost feels bad. He knows Sypha wants them all to get along, but… how can he seriously be expected to  _ get along _ with Alucard? Their relationship could only be improved if one of them discovered how to go back in time and prevent each other from meeting at all.  Wouldn’t that be nice.

“But!” Sypha continues. “You know Alucard can—Oh I’m sure you’re already aware, you Belmonts know everything about monsters, don’t you?”

“Wait, what? What can Alucard do?”

“You... don’t know?” She turns to him, feigning shock, and immidiately Trevor regrets asking and not just pretending he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Trevor Belmont, sole heir to the Belmont family name, knows less about a dhampir than I?”

“Just tell me.”

His mood must come across crystal clear—and how could it not, when Trevor is already exhausted, probably looks worse than he has in years, and is currently dealing with possibly the worst crisis known to man?—because Sypha's teasing expression quickly falls from her face without a single other remark.

“You’re no fun,” she pouts. “Alucard can manipulate dreams.”

...

“Being the son of one of the most powerful vampires in the world has its perks, I suppose.”

Wait.  _Wait_.

Sypha talks in the background, but Trevor can hardly register it over the thoughts racing through his head.

Alucard can manipulate dreams. Alucard can  _ manipulate dreams _ .

But what Trevor is thinking can’t be possible, though, can it? Alucard hates Trevor just as much as Trevor hates him, he knows that already, so he wouldn't... he couldn't be the one doing these things. But Trevor also knows for an absolute fact that he would  _never_ have those dreams without some kind of outside force, without his brain being controlled and fucked with.

Trevor thought Alucard wouldn't do such things, but he doesn't know Alucard. What Trevor does know is that Alucard is a vampire—half-vampire, but vampire all the same—and that his kind bring nothing but trouble.

Alucard’s motivation for doing such things, how he even accomplished it all without Trevor noticing, none of that matters, because finally, Trevor has a reason to believe that these dreams aren’t his own fault, or the fault of his messed-up mind playing cruel tricks on him, or some god enacting their sick wrath.

This is Alucard. That bastard is trying to get in Trevor’s mind and confuse him, upset him. And now, he’s about to face the consequences. No creature of the night has ever faced a Belmont and won.

“Actually,” Trevor gets up, and uncaringly drops the blanket behind him, “I think talking to Alucard is a great idea.”

His words have much, much more bite to them than he intends, and Sypha obviously picks up on it. She gives him a look of confusion and concern, but he pays her no mind. As soon as he’s standing, he’s turning on his heels and marching away from her, ignoring any farewell or warning or question that she shoots at his back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The old wooden floors of the library creak beneath Trevor’s boots as he marches through the library in search of the  _ monster _ that has been plaguing his nightmares each night. If he were in any other state of mind, the sounds would be concerning—this is a very old library, and it hasn’t received a bit of care in years, not since his family was driven out when he was young. The likelihood of him breaking through the floor was alarmingly high at best.

But that didn’t matter now. The library didn’t matter now. Dracula’s armies could come through and set fire to each individual book, each irreplaceable artifact, and Trevor wouldn’t give a damn. The only thing that mattered to him right now was getting his hands on Alucard.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He reassured himself—not, not in the sensual way, of course. He was going to show Alucard the consequences of messing with the Belmonts. He was going to find the sneaky bastard, slap whatever smug look he had off his face, push him down over the nearest table and—

And—…

Fuck. Fuck! Trevor shook his head and arms, huffing, as if he could physically expel the twisted,  _ completely _ involuntary thoughts running through his mind. Those were Alucard’s fault too, the lingering effects of those damned dreams. As soon as Trevor found him, he’d  _ pay _ .

And fortunately, by the grace of a god Trevor still isn’t convinced about—though he may just be, depending on how this next conversation goes—Alucard proves easy to find. Trevor turns a corner to find Alucard between a set of shelves, leafing through a book. His face is unmoving and yet somehow he still manages to look disgusted by the contents. 

The sight of him utterly disrespecting everything the Belmont family worked to put together and preserve only makes Trevor’s blood boil hotter. As if he’s any better than the entire Belmont family, as if he can treat Trevor’s family’s life work like it was  _ trash _ —nevermind the fact that Trevor himself had just been stomping through the library without a single care for the infrastructure. 

“Was that you making all that noise?” Alucard’s voice cuts through the tense aura around Trevor, piercing straight into his chest and making him  _ angrier _ . He’s still not looking at Trevor, eyes glued on the book as he turns another page. “And here I thought Sypha let the horse in.”

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think we do.”

“Put the book down.”

“I’m still reading it.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“I’m not sure if you’ve  _ noticed _ ,” he spits out the last word, and for a brief moment the annoyance Alucard must be feeling burns through the mask of neutrality, exposing itself. But the mask is dawned again a split second later, and Alucard turns another page before continuing, “but we’re in the middle of searching for a way to stop Dracula. I don’t have time for games, Belmont.”

Trevor lets out a huff of sarcastic laughter, “Dracula hasn’t stopped you from playing games before.”

And that, it turns out, actually catches Alucard’s attention. His head does not move but his eyes flick up to meet Trevor’s. The gold is piercing in an inhuman way, but Trevor refuses to back down now.

“What are you talking about?”

“You damn well know what I’m talking about.”

An eyebrow twitch. The mask is starting to crack permanently, but Alucard is nowhere near as annoyed as Trevor is growing with each passing second without a proper apology.

“Let’s assume I don’t, for the sake of the conversation.”

“Quit trying to play dumb!”

“As if I’d be able to compete against you.”

“Fine!” Trevor snaps, throwing his arms up in defeat. “Don’t admit to it, that’s fine. Just apologize and leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone?” Alucard echoes, and finally, finally he lowers the book and turns his head towards Trevor, eyes narrowed and lips pulled back. “Is that not what I’ve been doing?”

“It absolutely isn’t!” The direct eye contact only spurs Trevor on further, like he’s some sort of rabid dog as opposed to a—usually—reasonable adult. “You’ve been fucking with me every night!” Quite literally, a small part of Trevor thinks, much to the rest of his mind’s embarrassment. God he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“So you say,” Alucard hums, mulling over the accusation, but Trevor doesn’t know why. There isn’t anything he can say to defend himself, surely he can see that, so he might as well apologize now so Trevor can go and get some  _ proper sleep _ .

A tense moment passes between them, silence heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. Trevor is hardly breathing anyway, more panting as he tries to keep his anger in check, but it isn’t easy when Alucard is standing there, head held high as he considers the situation, like they’re having some fucking intellectual debate.

After the moment has passed—and it feels like hours, days,  _ years _ later—Alucard rolls his eyes and—

And returns to his book, like he’s bored of Trevor. He probably is.

“I think you may be sleep-deprived. Exhaustion can lead to delusions, you know.” He explains, flipping to the next page. “Why don’t you go lie down?”

And that—that does it. Something inside Trevor snaps violently, and it’s not even anger anymore that fills his body and clouds his mind, it’s something else, something firey, but the way it washes over Trevor is almost soothing. Distantly, Trevor is reminded of the feeling of boiling water and how, for a split second, it feels almost cold if you dip your hand in it.

Without even thinking about it he’s storming forwards, so quickly that not even Alucard, with his heightened senses and reflexes, has a chance to react before Trevor is grabbing onto the book in his hands and yanking it away, promptly tossing it to the side like it were trash. 

Time seems to slow as the book flies across the pathway towards the other shelf. The heartbeat in Trevor’s ears echoes around his mind like the throbbing headaches he got after a particularly rowdy night. He can see in slow motion the way Alucard’s eyes widen in surprise, mouth dropping open, ready to demand an explanation he doesn’t need, because he knows what this is about.

Before he can say a single word, Trevor’s hands are grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, gripping tight and spinning them both around until he’s slamming Alucard into the bookcase just the book he had tossed aside thuds against the opposite shelf. Alucard’s grunt muffles the sound of the book falling to the floor in a ruffle of pages, and his hands shoot up to grab Trevor’s shoulders, likely to push him away, but somehow Trevor overcomes the unnatural strength and crowds in close, face so close to Alucard’s, he can feel the inhumanly cold breath ghosting over his nose.

Finally, he has Alucard  _ exactly _ where he wants him.

“Listen to me,” he grits out between his teeth, fists clenching tighter onto Alucard’s jacket. “I am sick and tired of you acting like you don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let that slide. You’re going to apologize for all the  _ shit _ you’ve done, and then you’re never going to bother me again. We’re going to go kill Dracula, and that will be the last either of us ever see of each other. Is that all clear?”

Alucard hums again in response, and it’s  _ infuriating _ that he doesn’t seem to realize the amount of trouble he’s in, but Trevor knows he’ll be finding out soon if he keeps up this smug little act of his. 

For a second Trevor sees… something flick across his face. The expression is so brief, Trevor can’t identify it, but he hopes it’s guilt. It  _ must _ be guilt, because what else could Alucard possibly feel at a time like this? 

“Can I ask just one more question?” His voice is even, not betraying a thing, not at all revealing what that expression might have been. Trevor growls in warning, but he has a feeling that no amount of posturing will stop Alucard from doing what he wants. Sure enough, against what  _ has _ to be his better judgement, because Alucard is a reasonable man at times and surely he realizes just how pissed off Trevor already is, Alucard continues with his question.

“Does depravity run in your family?” And suddenly, Alucard’s knee is hiking up, forcing itself between Trevor’s legs and his thigh is  _ grinding _ into Trevor’s still half-hard cock. Where once it had been flagging, finally the residue from his dream washing off in his anger, it is suddenly  _ aching _ at the touch, and Trevor’s breath hitches in his throat, blood rushing so loudly he hardly hears Alucard finish his thought, “or is it just you who gets off on harassing innocents?”

_ “Innocents”  _ he says, but Trevor can’t find it in himself to shout anymore. He’s frozen in place, hands locked into fists still clutching Alucard’s coat. Where once he had Alucard pinned, now Trevor is the one being held down, not by any physical means but by sheer embarrassment as he realizes just how much Alucard knows about how those  _ damn _ dreams made Trevor feel. 

“Th-that’s not—…”

“That’s not  _ what _ , Belmont?” Alucard grinds his thigh forward, dragging it against Trevor’s crotch, and Trevor gasps again. Pleasant memories of his most recent dream resurface, and suddenly he’s filled with thoughts of him with his arms tied behind his back, riding Alucard’s thigh as the other watches, enraptured, like Trevor is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s humiliating.

“Don’t try and tell me it’s just the hilt of your whip,” Alucard teases, head cocking to the side and teeth shining in a mocking smile. 

But why? Why is this humiliating? Why should Trevor feel shame for reacting the way any healthy man would when bombarded by dreams like the one Alucard had been  _ forcing _ —because they occurred entirely against Trevor’s will, of course—into Trevor’s mind? This was all Alucard’s fault, and yet here the man was,  _ laughing  _ at Trevor for suffering from the consequences of  _ his _ actions. 

“I’ve  _ seen  _ your whip—” Alucard continues to drawl above Trevor, but Trevor’s too lost in his own thoughts to pay him much mind, too occupied with coming to some very logical conclusions, if he does say so himself.

If anyone should be suffering from all this, if anyone should be feeling shame, guilt,  _ embarrassment _ , it should be Alucard.

“—and it’s much larger than thi- _ oh! _ ” 

Trevor drops Alucard suddenly, and Alucard is either caught so off-guard he doesn’t get the chance, or he doesn’t even bother trying to catch himself with his strange floating powers. He tumbles to the floor in a heap of that  _ stupid _ flowy coat, and Trevor doesn’t give him a chance to recover. In an instant he’s reaching down and grabbing a fistful of Alucard’s soft, long hair, and roughly dragging him to his knees, paying no mind to the cursing and scratching at his bracer. 

Once he has Alucard eye level with his now throbbing erection, he pushes his hips forward, and grinds his dick against Alucard’s temple. Alucard responds with a stuttering inhale, eyes fluttering shut, so he doesn’t see the way Trevor snarls above him.

“I don’t appreciate being mocked for something that isn’t my fault,” Trevor says, smoothly, more smoothly than he thought was possible when he’s this fucking  _ hard _ and  _ angry _ . 

“You’re saying this is  _ my _ fault,” Alucard responds, more a statement than a question, but Trevor clarifies anyway.

“That’s right,” he says, and then he’s giving Alucard’s hair a strong yank and dragging his head up, grinding his erection down to Alucard’s pronounced cheekbones. Alucard gasps as he does so—in shock of the raunchiness of it all or in pain because of the tugging at his hair, Trevor doesn’t know. Perhaps a mix of both. One of his hands rips away from Trevor’s bracer and moves to his thigh, but stops short, fingertips twitching against the flesh, like he doesn’t know whether to scratch or hold.

If Trevor’s being honest with himself—and he thinks at this point, he has no choice but to admit his feelings—he isn’t sure which he’d prefer either.

“But you’re not going to apologize for it, are you?” He asks, other hand twitching at his side with the desire to, what, hold Alucard’s still hovering hand? Stroke his other cheek, grab and force his jaw open, push his thumb into his mouth and play with his tongue—so many options, and the sleep-deprivation is making it hard to sort them all out and pick just one.

Alucard’s eyes flutter back open. There’s a  _ hunger _ in them, and it’s Trevor’s turn to gasp as the piercing gold stares straight into his soul, and for a second his knees feel weak and he’s half-convinced Alucard is putting him under some spell.

“No,” he breathes, and the hand hovering at Trevor’s thigh finally makes up its mind and takes hold of the bright red cloth tucked between Trevor’s belt and tunic. He gives it a gentle yank, testing to see how firmly it’s being held in place. Already it begins to fall free. 

And Trevor’s heart swells in his chest—and he’s honestly shocked he has the blood for that when it feels like his cock is about to burst. He needs to do something about that, and  _ soon _ .

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Trevor’s snarl breaks into a grin, and Alucard actually smiles back up at him, but Trevor knows he’s going to be knocking that cocky look off his face soon. Alucard has no idea the trouble he’s gotten himself into. 

But first, he needs to ask. Trevor doesn’t want this to stop, but he needs to ask—he needs to hear that Alucard wants this, because he needs something to quell the nervous butterflies in his stomach starting to form, because—

Because he just really,  _ really _ wants to hear Alucard say it.

“Do I need to teach you the consequences of your actions?”

Alucard responds with a soft breath, eyes twinkling with a mischievousness Trevor never imagined would suit Alucard so well, “you can try.”

And with that, Trevor lets himself go.

Trevor’s  _ yanking _ on Alucard’s hair, roughly, much more roughly than he should honestly, and Alucard finishes his thought with a loud yelp, hand suddenly grabbing and  _ squeezing  _ almost as roughly into Trevor’s thigh, but the pain that should have caused rolls off Trevor’s nerves like water off a duck’s back. Any biting comment about his treatment Alucard might have is cut off when Trevor adjusts the hold he has on his head, moving his hand a bit further down so his palm rests against the back, and he’s yanking Alucard close once more, until his lips are firmly pressed against the tent in Trevor’s trousers.

A moment later and understanding is dawning on Alucard’s face, and his eyes move from Trevor’s face downwards, towards his crotch, though Trevor can’t imagine he can get a good look at it from his position. Not like it matters. He doesn’t need to  _ see _ it to get his face fucked.

Slowly Alucard’s hands begin to move, away from Trevor’s thigh and bracer and to his hips. They rest against Trevor’s belt, fingers hooking over the top to keep himself steady as he moves back, slightly, ever so slightly—and Trevor lets him, and for a second his stomach aches at the thought that perhaps Alucard is going to demand they stop, but he will stop, if that is what Alucard wants, despite how hard he is—and then he…

Trevor’s eyes widen as Alucard opens his mouth, and his pretty pink tongue rolls out and  _ drags _ up over the bulge. Trevor’s free hand moves up in a second, and now Trevor is steadying himself too, against the shelf behind Alucard, hand holding so tightly to the decaying wood he swears he hears it begin to splinter. His mouth drops open in a silent groan—the friction Alucard’s tongue gives through the thick fabric of his pants is minimal but the heat it sends up Trevor’s body is  _ searing _ and the image alone is enough to give Trevor enough fantasies to satisfy him for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, Trevor isn’t so keen to fuck Alucard’s mouth anymore.

Suddenly, Trevor finds himself very content to just sit back and watch Alucard lick at his clothed erection like it’s the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. Trevor’s pants are rapidly becoming soaked with his saliva, and  _ fuck _ Trevor thinks he’s going to go crazy. It’s like Alucard wants Trevor to come without shedding a single piece of his clothing and honestly, judging by the way his chest shakes with every wet inhale, Trevor thinks he just might.

He has to stop this before he does.

He tugs at Alucard’s hair again, not so roughly this time—he finds that seeing Alucard lap at his cock quelled his anger a bit—keeping him just far enough that he can no longer reach Trevor’s erection with his all-too-skilled tongue. Alucard doesn’t stop  _ trying _ though, and it’s almost amusing to watch him stick his tongue out as he’s pulled away in an attempt to give Trevor a last few licks before he looks up and  _ glares _ .

“Aren’t you a little whore, so eager for me,” Trevor coos, and perhaps it’s a  _ bad idea _ calling Alucard, one of the most powerful creatures in the world, a  _ whore _ , but the way Alucard’s breath hitches and exhales as a  _ whine _ at the insult makes it so, so worthwhile. “Go on and get my cock out, if you want it so badly.”

Trevor can see the conflict in Alucard’s eyes—of course he doesn’t want to follow orders, of  _ course _ he’s a brat in bed, the dreams showed Trevor that Alucard much prefers to be in control—but he knows Alucard is desperate for this, desperate for  _ him _ . If he wasn’t, why would he send him dream after dream, night after night?

And the desperate side wins out, internally Alucard must decide getting Trevor’s dick despite not being in control is better than nothing at all, and his hands slink up beneath the fabric of Trevor’s tunic so he can reach the laces. Of course he’s just as amazing with his fingers as he is with his  _ tongue _ , and the laces come undone quickly and easily, and Alucard wastes no time  _ yanking _ down Trevor’s pants to around his thighs with such force, he’s worried that they’ll rip.

But the condition of his pants really isn’t Trevor’s main concern right now.

As soon as his cock, now throbbing with the need to be inside of Alucard’s pretty mouth,  is springing free Trevor hisses—the cool air is both a blessing and a curse on the overheated skin. He carefully pulls his hand away from the shelf, ensuring his own balance is stable enough before he does so, and reaches down to wrap it around the base of his dick, fully intending to force it between Alucard’s lips right then and there but—

But the look on Alucard’s face catches him off-guard. Alucard looks awestruck, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as he takes in the image that is Trevor’s cock. Trevor can’t help but preen under the attention, he knows he’s fairly above-average in size—or maybe the workers at the brothels just told him that so he’d feel good enough about himself to come back and spend more money on them—and the veins beneath the skin bulge beautifully along the underside. He wonders if Alucard’s mouth is watering, if he’ll start drooling if Trevor encourages it enough.

“Better than it is in the dreams, hm?” He can’t help but brag a little.

But instead of some biting remark or, more ideally, a confirmation that Trevor’s dick is so, so much better in real life than it is in the dreams, Alucard looks almost… confused. And concerned. Trevor blinks down at him, worried, and opens his mouth to ask if Alucard is still okay, but before he can Alucard is fighting against the hold Trevor has on the back of his head, pushing forward and enveloping the bulbous head of Trevor’s cock in the warm, wet heat of his mouth, and all coherent thoughts fly from Trevor’s head.

Trevor’s hips stutter forward, and he exhales suddenly, gut clenching in pleasure. Fuck, fuck that feels so good, this feels so  _ good _ , how did Trevor last this long without knowing this level of bliss? 

“Oh that’s good,” Trevor praises, hand on Alucard’s head moving up, ruffling Alucard’s hair as it goes. He gives the top of Alucard’s head a pat he half-hopes feels condescending. “Good pet, good whore.”

Alucard’s moan rumbles through his dick and Trevor hisses in pleasure, teeth clenching to keep himself from begging for more. Alucard’s tongue pushes up into the underside of Trevor’s cock, teasing the head with light touches and half-circular movements. It starts to play with the strand of skin just beneath the head, and each time it does Trevor feels his knees go weak, but sometimes his tongue pushes Trevor’s cock close enough to a fang that Trevor tenses with fear. Maybe-maybe having a  _ vampire _ —half-vampire, whatever—suck on his cock was a bad idea? But every time Trevor begins to reconsider his plan, Alucard suckles on the tip, eyes falling shut and Trevor can’t stand the way Alucard looks like he’s savoring every moment of this.

This is suppose to be punishing, damnit, but Trevor is quickly losing control of himself to Alucard’s silken tongue. He needs to regain control of the situation, and quickly.

“I think that’s enough teasing,” he says, breathlessly, voice already growing rough. “I think… I think it’s time for you to see what happens to beasts who try and take down a Belmont.”

Assured that his cock is held firmly by Alucard’s pretty lips, Trevor pulls his remaining hand away from it and places it on Alucard’s head beside his other hand, and he gives Alucard a moment, only a moment, to understand the gravity of the situation before Trevor makes a move.

Understanding shines in Alucard’s eyes a split second before Trevor is thrusting forward and pulling his head down, forcing his cock deep into Alucard’s throat.

Alucard chokes beneath him, eyes wide as his mouth is utterly violated, filled to the brim by the fat shaft of Trevor’s dick. The way his cheeks puff out is gorgeous, as is the way tears spring to his eyes as he rapidly swallows around Trevor’s cock as he adjusts to the intrusion.

Trevor holds steady for several moments then, partially to give Alucard the time he needs to get used to the sensation, but mostly because Alucard just looks so beautiful, so gorgeous like this, and Trevor doesn’t want to lose the image so soon.

“You like choking on my cock, hm?” He asks, and Alucard can respond with nothing but a muffled whine that vibrates Trevor’s cock, making Trevor’s responding laugh breathy and short. “Of course you do—you acted tough in the dreams but you kept coming back night after night for this, for  _ me _ .”

Alucard glances up at him, and Trevor can’t read his expression through the tears. 

“Such a naughty slut,” Trevor slurs, and he can’t stop the way his hips twitch. He’s so desperate for more, to start fucking Alucard’s throat. “To take your pleasure and leave me hanging. You deserve this punishment.”

Alucard’s adjusted enough—Trevor doesn’t want him  _ too _ used to the stretch in his throat, after all—and so Trevor pulls back. His eyes are locked on the way Alucard’s lips stretch around his shaft as he drags his cock free until only half remains inside, heavy against Alucard’s tongue. 

“But I bet you love this,” Is Alucard even listening? His eyes are starting to go glossy, but Trevor can’t stop talking anyway. “I bet you love being punished like this, Tepes. I bet you love feeling my cock stretch out your throat.”

And then he’s fucking forward again, thrusting deep into Alucard’s hot throat, grinning when Alucard chokes again and hips buck forward. The thought of letting Alucard rut on Trevor’s leg is appealing, to see Alucard in the same position Alucard imagined Trevor in, but Trevor needs to make this punishment  _ a little  _ cruel.

“Maybe if you’re a good boy, and you don’t touch yourself, I’ll come down your throat.” Just as roughly as he pushed in, Trevor’s pulling out, freeing his cock from the tight heat that is Alucard’s mouth. As good as it felt, watching Alucard cough and gasp for air feels even better, face red and cheeks stained with tears. His hair is a tangled mess from Trevor’s hands, and the combination of it all makes Alucard look so  _ debauched _ .

“How does that all sound?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Alucard doesn’t know that, he opens his mouth to respond, likely to complain that he hardly considers swallowing down Trevor’s cum a  _ reward _ , and Trevor thrusts forward again, filling his throat and forcing yet another choking sound from him.

“Too bad you don’t get a say in the matter,” Trevor says above him, already out of breath, already so close—how is he so close? The dreams really have left him so desperate, so close to the edge, but that doesn’t matter now.

He will be getting what he deserves soon enough, the compensation for having to deal with night after night of edging and being so,  _ so _ close.

With that lovely reward in mind, Trevor gets to work.

Of course, he has to ensure above all else that Alucard will  _ not _ be touching himself. Alucard’s wrists are so slight, strength hidden beneath such a small size, that pulling one hand away from his hair and scooping them both up away from his thighs is hardly a problem at all. He squeezes them tight and pulls them against his chest, and Alucard groans. He gives them a gentle tug and  _ whines _ .

Trevor wants to bind Alucard’s wrists with something, like his  _ whip _ ,  _ oh _ that would be lovely. It’d be lovely if Alucard didn’t have the protection of his gloves and shirt and jacket, if Trevor could wrap his whip around Alucard’s bare skin and see how the blessing on the leather affected him, being more human than monster. Maybe it’d leave pretty red marks, burns Trevor would get to tend to after their playing was done, get to kiss and caress until they felt better.

Another time, Trevor promises himself, another time when he isn’t so keen on keeping his other hand tight in Alucard’s hair.

He pulls his hips back again then, until naught but the head of his cock remains between Alucard’s lips, and before his worries about Alucard’s  _ fangs _ can get the better of him—he hopes to God that, if Alucard decides he’s no longer enjoying himself, his first instinct will be to free his hands and push Trevor away, not  _ bite down _ —he’s fucking forward again.

Alucard doesn’t choke that time, nor the next, nor the next, as Trevor picks up speed and begins fucking Alucard’s throat in earnest. The wet slapping noise, the sounds of Alucard whining and moaning beneath him, deafens Trevor, to the point where he can’t even hear his own groans, his own babbling nonsense he’s  _ assuming _ must be somewhat sexy, because Alucard is blushing more and more with each passing second, eyes falling shut as he just  _ takes it _ and  _ God _ it’s so beautiful, so gorgeous to see him take it.

“You’re so good at this, taking me so well,” Trevor makes out his own voice in the fog, “aren’t you, little pet?” 

Alucard groans in agreement, the sound sending vibrations through Trevor’s cock and up his spine and Trevor’s immediately jerking his hips forward, rhythm breaking for a moment.

“So good for me— _ fuck _ ,” he’s just repeating the things Alucard said to him in his dreams, but he can’t keep the cool demeanor up like Alucard had. How could he be expected to, when his cock was being swallowed by Alucard with each push forward like Alucard’s throat was shaped just for him? Like  _ Alucard _ was made just for him?

He’s close, too close, and though he has been left on the edge night after night he doesn’t want this to end so soon, wants to keep fucking Alucard’s face until the world falls apart around them, and even then Trevor wouldn’t care, not when the tight heat of Alucard’s throat was hugging his cock in all the right ways.

He pulls Alucard’s head close, then, keeping him firmly in place as Trevor takes a moment to catch his breath—a luxury he does not provide for Alucard, who he can only imagine is starting to grow dizzy—simply savoring the feeling of Alucard’s tongue pressed tight against the underside of his cock, the way his throat constricts around him with each swallow, the sharp, cool breath ghosting against Trevor’s abdomen as Alucard carefully breathes through his nose—

This isn’t helping him calm down at all Trevor realizes, but it is of no consequence.

He grinds deeper into Alucard’s throat, just to see the way Alucard squirms beneath him, and quickly falls back into his original rhythm, in out, in out, until his breaths are coming out in quick, wet pants and his heat is coiling in his gut, tightening his body and making his heart quicken.

His thrusts have grown erratic, though, and shallow, until he’s leaning over Alucard a bit further and forcing Alucard to lean back, as Trevor’s hold on his arms is still firm despite how he loses himself, and he’s humping his skull like a dog but  _ fuck _ does it feel good, does Alucard make such pretty noises as he does.

“I’m-I’m close,” he manages to force out. “Want me to fill you up, beast? Want to taste my cum? It’s the only warning he gives Alucard before he rolls his hips one last time and slams as deep as he can, eyes falling shut and teeth biting through his lip to keep himself from shouting curses as he comes undone—the last thing they need is for Sypha to hear and come investigate. 

He can imagine himself painting Alucard’s insides with his come, filling his stomach and coating his throat until Alucard’s body just can’t take it anymore and it starts to leak out from his mouth—

Those beautiful images and the feeling of Alucard swallowing load after load of Trevor’s seed are what pull Trevor through his orgasm, until he’s panting and whining at the overstimulation, until the bright stars in his vision begin to clear, until even Alucard’s silken tongue doesn’t feel good anymore.

He pulls out carefully then, easing his way out of Alucard’s abused throat until his cock is free, and then he’s dropping Alucard’s wrists and only then does Trevor get a good look of what he’s done to Alucard.

Alucard’s face is a bright pink, just as Trevor hoped it would be, tears streaming down his cheeks mixing with the sweat on his face and the drool rolling down from his mouth. His body is shaking with every inhale as he finally gets a chance to catch his breath—perhaps Trevor went a bit too hard on him, he thinks—but when he catches Trevor staring at him, when their eyes meet, his quivering lips tug into a cocky grin.

Bastard. Trevor grins back at him despite himself.

“How was that?” Trevor asks, just as breathless as Alucard looks, as he slowly sinks to his knees so he can look at Alucard’s face up-close. God he’s even more beautiful than Trevor thought, how is that possible?

“Fine,” Alucard responds, leaning forward until their noses are almost touching. Trevor’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Alucard lift one hand up to his swollen mouth, bite down on the tip of his middle finger, and flawlessly pull his glove off with his teeth. The glove drops between them, and then Alucard is beginning to pull his arm from his coat and that’s when Trevor realizes—

Alucard thinks it’s his turn.

Poor boy.

Trevor reaches up to Alucard’s face and gives his cheek a soft pat, earning him a confused look. The look only worsens when Trevor stands and begins pulling his pants back on completely.

“What are you doing?”

“You said yourself,” Trevor responds, tying off one of the laces on his trousers, “we don’t have time for games.”

“...what?”

“Back to work,” Trevor instructs with a nod of his head and a roll of his shoulders. 

He takes one last, long look at Alucard, face shocked, cheeks still tear-stained, lips still puffy and parted as his chest shakes with each inhale, coat hanging off his body with only one arm still in its sleeves. It’s a look Trevor will savor for eternity, the look he won against all odds, when Alucard thought himself clever enough to bend Trevor to his will.

Trevor salutes him, hardly able to keep himself from laughing as he turns on his heels and takes a step away—he can’t wait to tell Sypha just how  _ effective _ talking to Alucard really was, though of course he’ll have to leave out a few details.

But the laughing stops soon.

As soon as he feels a strong hand around his ankle. As soon as he’s tripping over himself and falling face-first on the wooden floor with a loud grunt of pain.

Oh no. Oh  _ no _ .

The hand pulls away from his ankle slowly, fingers dragging against it as they move, but even once the hold is gone Trevor knows better than to try and run. The sound of Alucard standing behind him and taking slow, measured footsteps pounds in Trevor’s ears in time with his thundering heartbeats, until they stop beside Trevor’s head.

Against Trevor’s better judgement, he slowly turns his head, and he can see Alucard’s still neat boots a mere foot away. Craning his neck further, he sees Alucard’s long, long legs, his—Trevor swallows—straining erection, the white shirt, free of stains because Alucard was so, so careful to swallow every drop of cum Trevor graced him with, and the coat, still hanging off one shoulder, until Trevor’s eyes land on Alucard’s face. His expression is… unreadable, which is far, far worse than anger or  _ anything _ , and Trevor’s heart stops.

“No,” Alucard says smoothly, and the grin that was once donned on Trevor’s face cracks over Alucard’s cheeks and it’s  _ terrifying _ .

“No, I don’t think we’re going to get back to work yet.”

* * *

Hours.

It must be  _ hours _ later when Alucard finally decides he’s sated, after he’s wrung orgasm after orgasm from Trevor, until Trevor is shaking like a leaf and utterly spent, hardly able to lift a finger he’s so exhausted.

Which, fortunately, he doesn’t have to. Alucard had set them up in a makeshift bed in a corner somewhere, piled a couple of blankets he had found atop each other and laid Trevor in it before making himself comfortable atop Trevor.

The last thing Trevor has managed to do was wrap his arms around Alucard’s waist before he simply lays back and lets Alucard trace the scars on Trevor’s now bare chest with a single, gentle finger.

They’ve been sitting silently like this for a little while now. This… Trevor isn’t good at this, at what comes  _ after _ . His sexual experience comes from brothels, where he’s in and out so his partner can move on to their next client, where he simply takes what he needs then pays and leaves.

But he didn’t have the energy to leave, and Alucard is so, so warm over him, and so  _ heavy _ that Trevor doesn’t have the strength to move him anyway.

And besides, something about this is… nice, Trevor is learning. Soothing, calming in a way Trevor hasn’t really experienced before. The way it winds him down and lulls him to sleep is, perhaps, the nicest thing Trevor has ever felt.

But it doesn’t mask the awkwardness about this. Should Trevor… say something? Compliment Alucard? Run his hands through his hair in an attempt to undo the many knots and tangles Trevor himself caused? He wants to do that last one, he wants to do  _ everything _ , but he’s so, so tired. Would Alucard judge him if he fell asleep right there?

“Trevor?” 

Before he can, Alucard’s voice breaks the silence, and Trevor blinks up at him—when had his eyes closed? God he was more tired than he realized—and hums in acknowledgement.

“How did you know about the dreams?”

…

“What’da’ya mean?”

How could he have  _ not _ known about the dreams, when they came to him every night? When they were the only thing he saw for days whenever he closed his eyes, and occasionally even when they were open?

“How…” and for a second, Alucard actually sounds embarrassed, which is unusual enough to wake Trevor up a bit more, “...how did you know about my dreams?”

“ _ Your _ dreams?” Trevor asks, confused, though he  _ supposes _ he could call the dreams he was having Alucard’s. They were, after all, caused by him, even if, and Trevor can admit this now, they were equally as pleasant for Trevor to experience as they were for Alucard to create.

“I suppose they weren’t really dreams,” Alucard notes, though that doesn’t answer Trevor’s question at all. “Just… the things I thought about, when I was on watch and you and Sypha were asleep.”

“Wait, wait,” now Trevor’s really awake, and he wants to sit up because he thinks that it’ll make this conversation somewhat more  _ sensical _ , but Alucard is so heavy and Trevor isn’t quite that awake yet. “So you…”

“What?”

“The dreams I was having were  _ your _ dreams?”

“They were…” Alucard ponders what Trevor said for a moment, like he’s tasting the words on his tongue. “You were…  _ also _ having those dreams?”

“Yes of  _ course _ I was having those dreams! I thought you had something to do with that!”

“I did not, I can assure you,” Alucard says, but he doesn’t seem so sure. “Though it is possible I was…”

“That you were  _ what _ .”

“I can manipulate dreams, you know.”

“I know.”

“And usually, vampires use that power to relax victims so they can feed on them in their sleep—”

“I  _ know _ ,” Trevor groans. “So why the hell was I getting your dreams!”

“It—…” Alucard coughs nervously, and looks away, back to Trevor’s scars. “It could be possible that I was… manipulating your dreams on accident."

“How do you do that on  _ accident _ ?”

“If I was… thinking about you hard enough, and you were nearby and asleep, it may be… possible.” 

Oh, oh God Alucard is blushing again, and Trevor can’t help the way his lips quirk up into a smile at the sight.

“No shame in having thoughts like that around me,” he reassures, “you wouldn’t be the first.”

“Oh please! Don’t act like you weren’t  _ very _ affected by them yourself.”

“I-well, I mean-,” and now it’s Trevor’s turn to blush, and Alucard’s responding laugh is light and airy and  _ fuck _ Trevor—

Trevor doesn’t know what to think about it. He’s far, far too tired.

Just the thought of thinking makes him yawn, and Alucard’s laughter dies down as he watches Trevor try to blink the sleepiness from his eyes.

“I’m sorry, did I wear you out?”

“Hardly, I’ve done…  _ plenty _ more than that before.”

“Really?”

“It’s cause of those damn dreams, I haven’t been getting any sleep—”

“Is that why you started yawning thirty minutes in?”

“Thirty minutes? But I—” Trevor yawns again, “—I only started yawning recently!”

“Yes, that’s right. How long do you think we’ve been doing this for?”

“...how long  _ have _ we been doing this?”

“No more than an hour.”

“ _ Shit _ .”

“How long did you think it was?”

“At least three!”

“ _ God _ that’s not possible.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Trevor grins and waggles his eyebrows, and Alucard rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” he retorts, “in your dreams.”

“In  _ your _ dreams, apparently.”

“Shut up.”

Another yawn, despite Trevor’s best attempts to stifle it. He’s having a nice time talking to Alucard—should he start calling him Adrian?—and he doesn’t want it to end quite yet.

“Why don’t you go to sleep? Since I’ve exhausted you so.”

“I’m not that tired,” Trevor says, even as he squeezes Alucard a little closer and lets his eyes slip shut.

“I promise not to think too hard tonight.”

“I don’t think…” Trevor’s head lolls to the side, and already he’s half-asleep, “I don’t think I’d mind too much, if you did.”

And like a light, Trevor is out, snoring before Alucard can respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YA'LL FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME I hope this chapter was worth the wait!!!  
> I'm thinking about adding a little fluffy epilouge but IDK if I'll make that another chapter or another stand-alone fic :0c For now, this is complete!!!
> 
> If you liked what you read, feel free to check out my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/catpawzzz), where I post fic updates and fic thoughts!  
> Also, reminder that requests are always open! <3

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday!!! And I love this ship so much so I decided to indulge and write it for my birthday
> 
> It's totally okay if you forgot my birthday present, you can just check out my brand new [Twitter](https://twitter.com/catpawzzz)! Cuz Tumblr decided no more NSFW content ;n;  
> While you're at it, friendly reminder that I have a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A665KVF)! <3 There is absolutely no requirement to donate, but I super appriciate it! If you do, lemme know your social media handle so I can give you a shout-out!
> 
> Requests are always open!


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